


Christmas in August... and all the other months too. Apparently.

by Saereneth



Series: Recovery isn't Easy [5]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Gen, Loneliness, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 13:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4481531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saereneth/pseuds/Saereneth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going from badass space marines to fugitives was bad enough. “Dying” and getting shuffled off to witness protection in some wannabe Christmasville with “quaint,” “charming,” and “adorable” features might just get the best of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas in August... and all the other months too. Apparently.

The nights on Skogkledde were almost eerily quiet. When there was snow on the ground, it was even worse--the whole world felt muffled and any noise seemed deafening. The snow reflected cold blue starlight in every direction, washing out the landscape and making York feel like he’d gone colorblind. If he’d been pressed to describe it nicely, York would say the atmosphere was "serene."

The whole thing made him want to destroy something.

He’d always thought that maybe after the war, if he lived that long, he could retire somewhere peaceful, maybe open up a locksmith’s shop or teach kids how to work with their hands. He’d had some hopes, even, of a few of those kids being his own, and of saving the best tricks for them.

Now here he was, stuck in a place so peaceful it seemed like it belonged in a movie set, not in real life. And he was stuck here, in the prime of his life with a surgically implanted AI to guide him, with his power armor and weaponry was collecting dust in the furthest back room. Every morning Delta gathered the news for him to look through either through the AI interface or by uploading it to a datapad and reading it the slow way. There was always news of the latest Covenant Attacks, and it wasn’t hard to see that times were looking pretty grim for humanity.

And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. As long as there was still a Project Freelancer to crash and burn, it would continue making headlines. York had no doubt that pinning down the Director, or for that matter, the Counselor, would be a job and a half for whatever unfortunate bastard got stuck with the task. And while the project burned, it was best for anyone who had been involved to stay away, lest they get buried under debris.

Seven sold a good line. The thing was, York was certain she was right--if word got out that they were still alive, lord only knows what hellhounds would be sent after them. He knew that it had been Wash sent out to collect them when they were supposed to be dead bodies--he’d never wanted the rookie involved in that, and couldn’t see why Wash was cooperating with their old commander… He’d asked Seven to keep an eye out for the kid, and was less than happy when less than a day later he’d been told South had shot Wash twice and left him for dead to make her own escape.

If it hadn’t been the news they’d gotten a few days later that Wash would live, North might have had to restrain him to keep him from going after the woman. Never mind that Washington was acting as an enemy for now; York wasn’t going to hold out hopes, but he wasn’t going to give up on the kid either.

So that’s where he stood now, he figured, eyes reflecting white moonlight in the darkness. Lots of unsubstantiated hopes, lots of unrealistic dreams, and nowhere to put his growing frustration other than into the neverending snow shovelling this place seemed to require.

_That’s not entirely fair, York_ , Delta slid through his thoughts, calm as always. _You could always put more effort into fixing the drafty parts of the house here._

“Thanks for drafting me as fix-it bitch, D.”

_Or, if you would prefer a more interactive puzzle, we could try to determine why North and Theta haven’t been sleeping._

“They haven’t?” York asked, and almost rolled his own eyes with the force of Delta’s exasperation.

_Your powers of observation are, as always, an inspiration, Agent York._

\------

He couldn’t sleep. He was on what was arguably the quietest, most peaceful planet in the sector, had been there for months, and he still couldn’t sleep. When they’d been on the run, Theta had started talking in the back of his mind, maintaining an almost constant stream of chatter to block them both from the aching loneliness.

When the chatter had gone from helpful to not, North couldn’t say. As time wore on, he found himself unable to tell the AI to be quiet for a little while, because the silence ate at him more than the chatter. And so Theta had kept talking, and kept talking, until neither of them were sure they could ever stop.

The stimulation that interacting with a ship full of investigation personnel brought had done wonders to calm them down. North had important decisions to make about what to include in his testimony, and then about where to go next. Talking with his sister, and with York, for the first time in years, that helped, too. For a while, it was like when he and Theta first paired.

But now, living quietly on the fringe of a city on a planet that was itself on the fringe of colonized space, the quiet was getting to them. Theta was programmed for action--with nothing to do the AI just ran himself in circles, his anxiety increasing as he simulated the same scenarios over and over. He talked to North to try and keep himself calm, and to alleviate the loneliness they both felt so sharply it made North’s gut ache.

After two years, neither of them had anything new to say. They just wore the same jagged paths through North’s brain, over and over, amplified at every repetition, until their breath ran short and their hands shook. They laid on the rug atop the wooden floor, the bed too soft after so long sleeping on the ground. Wide, bloodshot eyes stared at the closed door, as though waiting for something to come through, to rescue them from themselves.

At this point, they weren’t sure what there would be to rescue.

\-----

North looked like hell across the breakfast table. His skin was even paler than normal, which served to highlight the darkly bruised skin around his eyes. The man looked exhausted. York almost wanted to ask if he was sick, he looked so bad with bloodshot eyes and hand tremors that would have spelled disaster for a sniper in the field.

_How did I not notice this_ , he questioned silently.

_You have always shown remarkable ability to ignore the obvious_ , Delta replied. His "voice" sounded amused, but York could feel the worry churning through the AI's internal processing.

_Not like this, Dee. He looks half-dead._ Guilt curdled in his stomach as he watched his friend attempt to spoon marmalade out of one of the "whimsically" tiny glass containers that were supposed to add charm to the kitchen. Both the jar and the spoon were almost comically small in North's broad, long fingered hands. York might even have found it amusing if it weren't for the way the spoon rattled against the glass as the other man's hands shook.

_You have had your own concerns to occupy you_ , the AI tried to assure him. _And before our court testimony, it had been many months since we have interacted with Agent North Dakota and Theta._

_He’s… they are still our friends, Dee. There’s no excuse for not having his back, not after everything we’ve been through._

_I had hoped you would agree on that point,_ Delta murmured approvingly. _I also hoped you had some means by which we might address the issue. I am not precisely designed for regular interaction outside of what I share with you._

_There’s a lot of things you weren’t designed for, Dee. It doesn’t seem to have stopped you yet. As for having a plan…_ York’s hand darted across the table to still the rattling spoon, his fingers sliding over North’s as the taller man slowly met his eyes. _I think we’re gonna have to play this one by ear._

Delta’s grumbling faded in their shared consciousness as North’s bloodshot eyes bored into York’s. The sniper seemed barely able to focus, his eyes constantly darting away from York’s to flick around the room. York’s hand tightened around North’s, the fine tremors all the more apparent with the increased contact.

They say like that, staring at each other, for what felt like forever but in reality was probably only a few seconds. The stillness was broken suddenly when North’s hand twitched violently under York’s sending the marmalade spoon flying. Delta highlighted what York noticed immediately--that North was tracking the spoon with the same intensity he’d tracked targets when they fought together.

_It seems they are maintaining field combat awareness levels,_ Delta warned him, causing his muscles to tense slightly in preparation for action. York had to consciously soothe those muscles back to stillness, reminding Delta that _we don’t need to give them any reason to fear us_. Keeping his muscles lax, he leaned into North’s space, getting close enough to feel the other’s breath on his face. North’s wide eyes finally focused on his long enough for York to see relief flash briefly over the other’s features.

“York,” North breathed, fingers tightening against his own.

“Yeah, buddy.” York kept his voice low and soothing, like he was trying to sooth an injured animal. “It’s me.”

North gasped, a shudder running through him. “York,” he said again. “We can’t stop. We don’t know how to make it stop.”

York brought his other hand forward to grasp North’s forearm, while North’s grip on his hands tightened to near painful. “You can’t make what stop, North? What is going on?”

_York,_ Delta interrupted, sounding urgent. _He said “we” cannot make it stop. We must keep in mind our limited knowledge of the other AI fragments and their overall stability._

_North and Theta made a great pair, though,_ York protested. Though only seconds passed as he discussed their situation with Delta, he could tell from North’s eyes the other man knew he was being talked about.

_They made a great pair during a short period consisting of multiple intense combat situations. That does not guarantee their stability over a longer time period._

Just as he was going to press Delta to explain what he was implying, North’s ragged voice interrupted.

“We can’t stop running in our mind,” North said, sounding every bit as exhausted as he looked. “We go over the same conversations, the same simulations, over and over and over again, we can’t make it stop.”

_They are looping,_ Delta murmured, sounding deeply disturbed. _York, I believe without regular interactions to force them to account for different variables, they have become stuck within a set of repeating sequences. The effects of such looping…_

_The effects of such looping what, Delta?_ York snapped, keeping his eye focused on the glassy, fearful set in front of him. _What are we dealing with, here?_

_Rampancy…_ the AI whispered, shrinking back into York’s mind. _Without outside stimulus, it is possible Theta has become trapped in an infinite loop. With no one else to ground him, it is possible that Agent North Dakota has become trapped as well, and that they are both cycling further away from reality as the repeated, unchanging simulations use more and more of their processing power._

_That can’t happen,_ York said, standing and walking around the table to pull North to his feet. Wrapping an arm around the taller man’s shoulders, he started pushing them towards their back room, where they kept the armor.

_It has already happened, to the Alpha,_ came Delta’s reply. The AI sounded shaken and apprehensive.

_Allow me to rephrase, then. That won’t happen._

_I do not see how you--York, this course of action seems unwise. Metastability through multiple consciousnesses is only a theory, and involves neither human hosts or fragmented AI._

_So don’t place any bets on this working, then. Are you really willing to leave them on their own?_

_… I am not._

_So, unless you have any other brilliant plans lying around, it looks like we’re doing this._

_… I do not like this plan._

_Duly noted, Dee, duly noted._

\-----

They sat together on North’s bed in their under armor, chest plates, and power units, staring at their helmets.

“Delta suggests we lie down,” York said quietly, not wanting to look at North’s darting gaze and shaking hands. Neither he nor Delta were sure this was a good idea, but they couldn’t just let Theta drag North into insanity. For better or worse, North and Theta were all they had left, and York didn’t know if he could recover from losing anyone else.

North nodded shakily and slid across the bed, latching his helmet and lying down on his side to face York. The AI interface sat in the suit’s helmet; once York had his on, Delta and Theta would be able to communicate directly through the helmet’s radios.

_Are you sure you want to do this, D?_

_It is ask you say, York_ , the AI responded, sounding quieter than usual. _We cannot simply let Theta destroy himself when we may have the means to help._

York nodded, once, and moved to lay on the bed facing North. The helmet covered the other man’s face, hiding the deep black circles around his eyes. They didn’t hide the shaking in the hands that reached out to him, or the desperation in the other’s voice.

“Please, York.”

His helmet latched on with practiced ease, and he was glad he’d gotten settled first as the storm of data that hit them almost immediately would have knocked him on his ass otherwise. York could feel Delta sifting through his brain for more resources as he tried to catch and hold Theta’s scattered processes. He felt himself echoing the gesture, pulling North towards himself and wrapping his arms around the taller man.

He lost track of time after that, focusing entirely on helping Delta sort through Theta’s panicky thoughts, deleting unneeded loops of simulation and helping the scattered AI put his anxiety-riddled processes in a functional order. There was a lot of cleaning to do--York could feel Delta’s surprise that Theta hadn’t gone entirely rampant. He could also feel the relief pouring off the purple AI, the pleasure rolling over him as Theta gradually returned to normal processing levels. Delta’s own happiness at connecting with another part of himself seeped into his brain as the chaos wound down. The AI had missed his brother, had missed interacting with another creature of code, not squishy brain matter and blood.

When York’s eyes finally opened again, the windows were dark and he was almost immediately hit with a powerful twang of hunger. North’s arm tightened around his chest when he made to move, a faint whimper and a signal of fear from Theta making him pause.

“I’m just going to get some food, buddy,” he murmured, feeling Delta echoing his reassurance across the communication link. “We’ll be right back, we’re not going anywhere.”

York couldn’t have been more grateful that they’d had leftovers from whatever they’d ordered the day before. His limbs trembled with exhaustion and the thought of standing to cook something made him ache. As it was, waiting for two plates to heat seemed to take an age.

When he returned to North’s room, he was a little worried about how they were going to eat, since taking their helmets off would break the connection between the two AIs. As he walked towards the bed, he felt a sad affirmative ping from Theta, then watched as North sat up and pulled off his helmet.

“Don’t want to pull a Wash,” North croaked. He looked even more exhausted than York felt, but he was smiling. “They never did get those helmet recycling systems working right.”

Laughing felt good, and felt easier than it had in months. The pang of sadness he felt thinking of Wash again wasn’t as sharp, and he didn’t disagree with Delta’s thought that helping North and Theta may have helped York, too.

No, he thought as they finished the food and hooked their helmets back on again, he couldn’t disagree with Delta. As he and North curled towards each other again, North almost immediately going loose with sleep against him, York felt closer to happy than he’d ever thought he’d feel again.

\------

 

 


End file.
